Mo Chroí
by La Victime
Summary: An unknown enemy from a known evil has come for his revenge. By taking the Queen's sister and closest friend, will he have won the war, or will our knights be able to save their loved ones before it's too late? TristanxOC LancelotxOC T for now HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

Mo Chroí

Hey guys! Sorry, I know I keep writing new ones, but I'm nearly done with the third chapter of Devil In Disguise and a couple other chapters are either nearly done or half-way there, so bear with me. I hope you enjoy this, though.

Chapter one: Cuimhní

The night surrounded me, but it wasn't as silent as usual. I sat around the fire, smiling and laughing with the men and women of my tribe as we each took turns singing, dancing, or entertaining of some kind. Liam had just sat down after dancing his heart out.

"Andraste, Is é do sheal!*" he called out, Maeveen nudging me slightly.

"Beidh mé ag dul.*" I smiled, standing up and looking them all in the eye.

"_Deora ar mo chroi  
Ba dheas an la go oiche  
Na glortha binne i mo thaobh  
'S aoibhneas i gach ait gan gruaim  
Athas ar mo chroi go deo  
He-a-ro  
He-a-o-ro_

Ma shiulaim o na laetha beo  
An ghrian 's an ghealach ar mo chul  
Nil uaim ach smaointe o mo shaoil  
Deora ar mo chroi go bron  
He-a-ro  
He-a-ro  
He-a-o-ro  
Deora ar mo chroi,*" My voice trailed off, its haunting lilt fading expertly into the night wind as it blew my song throughout the forest. Smiling, I sat back down beside Maeveen. She giggled as a furry martin* scurried over her lap and curled into mine, another crawling up my side to rest around my neck.

"Ah, tá tú dhá iad, mo chaired*," I chuckled, scratching Evelina's head as she nestled in my lap and rubbing my cheek against Ula's, her tongue flicking out to lick it. I giggled, my family laughing softly around me.

"Tá sé am dul isteach Liam, tá tú Maeveen agus ag breathnú ar dtús. Uimh súgradh timpeall an ama seo, *" I muttered, standing up and heading to my "bed". Eve and Ula chattered endlessly at each other from around my neck, thus causing many of my fellow Woads to stare at my furry neck. Chuckling myself, I swiftly climbed up my tree and into my little canopy I had put together beneath a thick layer of leaves that did work to keep me dry when it rained, and it did a lot in Briton. Curling into the soft bedding, I pulled my fur blanket up to my chin and smiled softly as my two friends curled on either side of my neck. Slowly, as I listened to the sounds of the night, I fell asleep until my watch was to come. Little did I know, a secret pair of eyes watched over me.

I was awoken what seemed like seconds later, but in reality it was hours. Maeveen yawned as she climbed down the tree, waiting for me to get in place before heading off to her own bed on the ground. Of all of us, and there was a good twenty odd, I was the only one who insisted on sleeping in a tree. I didn't mind the forest itself, nor the animals, but I liked to have a good vantage point to defend my companions should the need arise. Silently moving to the spot Mae had deserted behind the bushes, I nestled myself against a lone tree, its roots providing the perfect chair. A pair of yellow eyes peered out at me and I smiled, beckoning the creature forward with a long, pale slender finger. Gwyn sat beside me, her tail still against the leaves as she, too, waited and listened. Gwyn was my favorite, of all creatures, in the forest to spend my watches with. She was silent and protected her home, our home, with just as much fervor as we did.

It could've been minutes, seconds, or maybe it was truly hours later, during the sunrise, a shrill whistle sounded from across the field. Gwyn's ears perked up and a smile near split my heart-shaped face in half as I answered with a whistle of my own, accompanied by a howl. Hurriedly, I dashed out of the bushes, knowing one of the others would instantly take over, with Gwyn on my heels.

"Sister!" I called, excitement ringing clear through my voice. I could see her smiling face, accompanied by her husbands' as he walked by her side. "And my dearest brother-in-law! Now this _is_ a surprise." I muttered, hugging them both simultaneously, Gwyn circling us and yipping happily.

"You mean your _only_ brother-in-law." He admonished, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Ah, Arthur, must you constantly point out that detail?" I asked wearily, shaking my head in silent laughter.

"The men miss your voice in the Tavern, though from the look on Tristan's face, he was scouting nearby last night and heard it." Guinevere chuckled, poking my side.

"And how is my favorite silent companion?"

"Oh, he's fine. Recovering from minor wounds." She smiled nervously.

"Guinevere..." I growled, narrowing my eyes.

"He was run through, Andraste, but, luckily, the sword missed his organs and Dagonet was able to heal him quickly." Arthur provided, wincing at my glare.

"So you let him ride around, scouting in the woods, when he should be in bed _resting_?" my incredulous tone left no doubt at the anger hidden behind my dark grey eyes. "I will fix this."

"Andraste, I don't think that—"he began, but it was too late, my mind was already made up, and by the look on his face, I'm sure he understood. If not that, then it was surly my sisters hand on his arm.

"Let her." She murmured, "He'll listen to her, most likely. If not, she'll simply bind him and make him rest."

"Not a bad idea, sister dear." I beamed, whistling softly. A whinny answered me as a black mare came thundering out of the woods, a white crescent on her forehead. "Janua and I will go meet him."

"I'll surely regret this, but he's most likely wandering around in the court yard, as Dagonet won't let him go elsewhere." He sighed, rubbing his face with a hand. Beaming, I said my goodbye's and set us off at a gallop. _'Tristan, I swear, if you've gotten yourself hurt worse than I think, I'll kill you myself.'_ I thought, my glare growing in intensity, so much so that Janua neighed from beneath me, tossing her mane.

"Sorry, love. I didn't mean it for you." I soothed, slowing us to a leisurely walk as we neared the gates. The men stared down at me in either shock or lust; I wasn't sure, as I was too accustomed to stares whenever I visited the fort at all. They took in my thick, leather bindings across my chest and the one around my waist, holding up two long strips of cloth as they hung down front and back; a pair of incredibly short shorts made out of deer skin kept my attire as "modest" as I needed it to be. Shifting in the stirrups, I waited for them to open the gate, hearing the groan of metal as it did. Nudging her forward, we made our way into the courtyard and instantly I found him. His dark brown, nearly black eyes pierced into my stone grey ones and he looked torn between fear, anger, and relief all at once. I plastered a falsely sweet smile on my face as I dismounted, my soft, boots making little noise as I landed, and handed the reins to Jols so he could take care of Janua.

"Tristan, are you well?" I started, moving to stand in front of him. He nodded slowly, inching backwards and slanting his body away from me so that I, hopefully, wouldn't notice the white of the bandage that threatened to peak out of his tunic. Unfortunately, his luck was not working for him today, though mine seemed to be. "Shouldn't you be resting if you're wounded? Arthur told me you had been run through, but if you're up and about it shouldn't be that bad, right?"

"Aye." He answered softly, fixing me with a wary glare.

"Well, then you wouldn't mind if I took a look at it, then would you?"

"Dagonet has deemed me well enough to walk. You need not take a look." He grumbled.

"Nonsense, it's just for my peace of mind, honestly."

"…" I was met with the silent stare of resignation as he turned towards his quarters, looking over his shoulder briefly to signal for me to follow him.

-Minutes Later-

"Tristan!! Oh, I will_ kill_ you one day!" I howled, staring at the wound on his abdomen. It had been getting increasingly hard to ignore how well his chiseled chest looked with sunlight streaming onto it, that is, until he finally removed the bandages so I could see the damage. Then it was as easy as climbing a tree.

"It's not that bad, Andraste." He murmured, eyes anywhere but looking at me. I huffed in aggravation.

"Not that bad my ass." I grumbled in reply, bandaging him back up, ignoring how close we were. "You will rest, or so help me, I will tie you to this bed until that wound has healed properly so that you do _not_ aggravate it." From his soft chuckle, I could tell he thought I was joking.

"I'd take her seriously, if I were you, Tristan." A voice declared from the doorway. I spun to face it, glaring menacingly at the speaker.

"Lancelot, don't you dare."

"What? I'm just saying he should, though I'm sure he'd enjoy it if you did. I know I would." He smirked, winking at me before waggling his eyebrows in a lewd gesture. I scoffed and turned my back to him.

"Who would ever want to tie you down in a bed?"

"Plenty of women, Andy."

"Then they must all be lacking of their senses, for the smell is enough to tie you down in a river and leave you." Tristan chuckled a little louder at my comment, causing Lancelot to growl before turning and stalking out of the hallway. "Now, I was serious." I continued.

"No."

"No what?"

"You will not force me."

"I will."

"You will not."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes!"

"No!"

"For the sake of all that is—bloody hell, Andy, what are you doing here?" Bors called, interrupting our argument.

"Currently arguing with a stubborn ass."

"Ah, I see. Well, you should know you'll win. You always do." He smirked. Tristan leaned around me to glare at his brother in arms. "You'll thank me one day, Tristan." Said knight scoffed and rolled his eyes away, fixing his now steaming glare on the defenseless wall. Bors left shortly afterwards and we were left to our own devices once again. Sighing, I ran a hand through my long, dark crimson hair.

"Tristan, please, do as I ask. I do not want to have to worry about you."

"Then stop worrying."

"You know just as well as I that that won't happen so long as there is breath in my lungs." I groaned, my resolve to keep my dignity and not beg him beginning to waiver. "Please, just please, rest for one more day."

"One."

"One, I promise."

"On one condition."

"What?"

"Stay." His voice made me pause.

"What?"

"Stay here...with me." He tried again, eyes moving to stare into mine. Beneath their mysterious, dark depths I could see something move, shift, _change_, but into what, I wasn't sure. I never was with Tristan. He always had me guessing, though, granted, I knew more about him than the others, with the exception of Arthur.

"Tristan, I—"

"Then I won't rest."

"…."

"Andraste..." Oh how I hated, no, _loathed_ when he said my name like that. The mere sound of it flowing from his sweet lips was like a million, burning suns melting me in his hands.

"Fine." I whispered the will not within me to growl or snap at him this time. He smiled, or, at least, smiled the way only he could: a quirk of the lips at either corner, the twinkling returning to his onyx pools.

"Good." I only hoped I hadn't signed my death wish. Not taking into consideration that the man before me either didn't know his affect on me and was innocent (which is hardly likely) or knew exactly what he did to me and was enjoying taking every advantage he could. Yes, I would kill him one day, but that day was going to be long in coming.

_**Author Notes:**_

_**Translations for the *:**_

"_**Andraste, it is your turn!"**_

"_**Alright, I will go!" (the song is Deora Ar Mo Chroi by Enya)**_

"_**Tears on my heart  
It was beautiful all day  
The sweet voices by my side  
And beauty without dispair everywhere  
Joy in my heart forever  
He-a-ro  
He-a-o-ro**_

If I walk from the alive days  
The sun and the moon behind me _**[2]**__**  
I'll only need thoughts from my life  
Tears sorrowfully on my heart  
He-a-ro  
He-a-ro  
He-a-o-ro **_

_**Tears on my heart.."**_

"_**Ah, there you two are, my dears."**_

"_**It is time to go, Liam. You and Maeveen are on first watch. No playing around this time."**_


	2. Authors Note

Hey guys, I know I haven't updated half of these in a long time. I'm really trying, but I'm starting to forget where I was going with stories, so some of them are on hiatus for a bit. I may not update very well for a bit as my father had a heart attack and went to the hospital this morning…..if any of you pray, and even if you don't, please keep him and my family in your thoughts, we've been having issues with people going to the hospital (including myself) for a few years now. I'm really sorry guys, I feel really bad about not being able to update so much, but I'm really going to try this year and get a lot out! Thanks for still reading, reviewing, and everything! It means a lot to me


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Healing

I tried, I mean I really, _really_ tried to be unseen in the Tavern. Working my way swiftly into the back, shadowed table in the corner, I easily slid onto the bench, relaxing against the walls, when suddenly there were ferocious cries heard from somewhere in the bar in front of me.

"ANDRASTE!" they all shouted and I cursed the karma that was nibbling at my backside. Slapping a smile on my face, I went over to greet them, noticing with anger that Tristan had pointed me out.

"I thought you'd be gone by now!" Bors thundered, pulling me into another monstrous hug. Laughing softly, I shook my head.

"I'm only here as long as our scout needs me, then I'll be back to guarding my home." I replied, ruffling Galahad's hair. Next thing I know, there is a pair of arms wrapped around me and I'm being pulled into a lap.

"Ah, well, while you're here, keep me company too, eh?" Gawain mock whispered, loudly kissing my cheek. I dissolved in a fit of giggles, playfully slapping his chest.

"Stop that!" I laughed, wriggling in his lap to get away from him. He gasped and latched onto me, holding me still as much as he could.

"I'd stop wiggling, if I was you." He growled huskily in my ear. I froze, a smirk slowly sliding across my lips. He sighed and rested his head against my back. "Thank you."

His thanks were short lived as I moved my hips in a slow, circular motion. Gawain let slip a low, guttural moan, his fingers moving to grip my hips. I chuckled and removed his fingers, kissing his hand before leaping from his lap and moving to hide behind Dagonet. My tawny haired friend groaned softly, allowing his form to slouch forward, head resting on the table as he turned to give me a heated glare through his thick hair.

"That was not nice, Andraste." He growled voice low and rumbling. I stared into his darkened blue eyes, smiling at him and shrugging.

"What's wrong, Gawain? Got a little problem?" Lancelot asked, attempting, and failing miserably, to hold in his laughter. Said knight turned an icy glare on him and grumbled something about Lancelot's mother and a dog.

"That was not nice, Gawain." Lancelot chuckled, throwing his words back at him. Gawain groaned again and grabbed another wench to occupy his lap and attention. Lance turned his attention to me. "Does this mean if I'm mortally wounded you'll stay with me, as well?" he asked.

"No." I replied, a smirk on my face.

"Why not?"

"Because you're more like a brother to me and incest is frowned upon in both this society and mine."

"Damn."

"Even so, I wouldn't touch you with a pole."

"And why not?"

"You smell funny." I laughed, causing the others around me to laugh as well. Lance's face turned red before he gave over to the amusement in his eyes and joined us.

"Touche, dearest Andy." He replied. Tristan sat down and pulled me to sit beside him.

"Andraste, will you be training with us as you did before?" Dagonet asked, sipping the ale in his tankard, curious, kind dark eyes staring at me.

"I might, if you all don't mind being beaten all the time." I smirked, settling down beside Tristan, his hand discreetly resting on my knee.

"Ah, but you still can't beat Tristan, I'd wager." Gawain chuckled.

"Gawain, you know betting her isn't-"Galahad started, but I raised my hand to interrupt.

"I'm not the small little girl I once was, Gawain." I replied, my grey eyes as cold and hard as their blades. I nodded my head to the others and bent to whisper in Tristan's ear, "I'll meet you in your room." Then I set off, wild hair tumbling around me with the wind as I turned away from the tavern, old memories dragging themselves from their graves in my mind to haunt my thoughts as I made my way silently to Tristans' room.

~Meanwhile~

"That was unnecessary, Gawain." Lancelot admonished; his face different. Gone was his boyish and amusing charm, but instead, it was replaced with a hard, grim expression, worry filling his dark eyes. Bors and Dagonet fixed him with a hard, glare, chests puffed out in the old protective manner they always did when Andraste was younger.

"She was with us for years after we saved her from the Romans. She remembers the horrors of war. Do you not remember how she nursed you back to health after you'd been gravely wounded? She did so for all of us. Had it not been for her, Lancelot, Tristan and I would surely be dead." Dagonet spoke, his voice quiet and threatening, as it always was when someone disrespected her. Tristan turned an evil glare on Gawain and rose to stand in front of him

"Remember all she's done for you. The times she lied for you, took care of you, helped you. Remember how much she taught you. All these things should be kept in your mind the next time you wish to insult her to her face." He hissed, storming out of the tavern and back to the knights' quarters. He stopped before his door, hesitating only a moment, before bursting in on a sight he wished he could forget. There, sitting curled in a fetal position on his bed was Andraste. His eyes took in every detail, how her body shook with silent sobs, the way her hair cascaded around her, like a veil of blood; her boots were off, thrown haphazardly at the foot of the bed, her small feet tucked beneath her. Hesitantly, he walked over to kneel beside her, setting a hand gently on her arm. He was never good at comforting people, let alone women, but he'd known Andy for a long time, long enough to learn that she didn't always need words or caresses for comfort, just the knowledge someone was there, that someone cared.

"Tristan, why am I still belittled by them? Have I not proven myself a thousand times over? Was it not I that save them from the grasp of death? Or the Saxons?" she mumbled into the pillow, unwilling to open her eyes. On closer inspection, he realized tears were still pouring down her face, silent as death.

"They do not belittle you, they merely do not wish to think of you fighting wars the way we do." He whispered after a moment of silence, carefully thinking the words before he spoke them. "Why don't you have a soak in the baths? It always makes you feel better."

"Will you keep watch?"

"Of course."

(- switching POV btw—thought I'd warn you)

We left his room quietly, me hovering just behind him, and him boldly walking in front, eyes glaring at any and people who dared to stare. Upon reaching the baths, he kicked everyone out with a simple look and a point of one long, elegant, calloused finger. Fearing him, they listened, and I moved inside, knowing he'd bar the door with his body and keep others from entering easily. I slipped off my clothes and boots and eased into the steaming waters. I grabbed a rag, soaked in soap and oils, and scrubbed the ink off my skin, though the tattoos stayed as they were permanently etched into me.

Once done, I dressed in new clothes, though still of my people. The emerald cotton slid over my skin like silk, all the way down to my toes; the sleeves, only three fingers wide, hung off my shoulders; I tightened the laces of the bodice, cinching it to a comfortable squeeze around my torso; then put my boots on after brushing through my hair once and braiding the top half of it. I walked over to the door and knocked twice, letting him know I was ready to come out.

"Feel any better?" he asked, concern and amusement lacing his roughly smooth voice (yes contradiction, but listen to his voice, its rough but smooth).

"I do, thank you, Tristan." I smiled, neatly linking my arm with his. He placed a large calloused hand on my smaller, delicate one, a slight quirk of the lips on his face; His version of a smile, at least in public. A flurry of feet came towards us and Galahad came to a sudden stop, leaning forward on his knees.

"Arthur …requests our..presence at…the wall." He huffed, looking up at us through his curly hair. I nodded in response and, lacing my arm through his as well, tugged them both in the direction of the wall.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: New Arrivals

"Andraste, Tristan, Galahad!" Lancelot called, motioning us over to stand with the rest of the knights behind Arthur as he waited to greet a fellow Roman.

"So, who's this Roman?" I asked, holding my head high, shoulders thrown back in defiance to any who would dare deny me my place among these noble men.

"Arthur didn't say, only that they're important to him, family, I think." Bors replied, scratching his stubbly chin in thought, lips pursed. I nodded. We couldn't expect him to tell us everything. We had secrets from him about our pasts, our families; it was only fair he had his own. I watched, shifting my weight from foot to foot, as a smile broke out on Arthur's face when a lady walked out of the carriage, accompanied by a maidservant and a male escort.

"Calidia , my dear cousin, I welcome you to Hadrian's Wall." He beamed, spreading his arms wide. She smiled, a gentle, delicate turning of the corners of her pale lips. "These are my knights, they are like family to me and have fought beside me valiantly for many years." We nodded our heads in her direction as her dark eyes swept over the line, stopping on me for a long while. Suddenly, she gasped, mouth forming a perfect 'O'.

"Arthur, she is a _Woad_! And she is a woman!" Calidia protested, glaring angrily at me. I stared back at her, refusing to lower my gaze. She was no better than I, no matter that she was of Roman blood.

"And my sister-in-law; Andraste has fought beside me for years, it's because of her that we few stand here, alive and intact. It would please me if you would respect her as you would me, as she is your family as well as mine." He spoke, his voice soft as he gently scolded her. The woman had the nerve to blush with defiance at her king, her family.

"But, Arthur, it's _her kind_ that killed all our people and your knights!" she argued, taking steps toward him, "I want her _gone_ from the Wall! She has no right to be here!" Arthur's eyes slid over to me instantly and in response, I stepped forward.

"I will not speak to you with the courtesies I use to address my king, nor will I deem to associate you with him, but mark this, child, I am older than you, and deserve that respect, Woad or not. I have saved their lives more times than I'd care to remember; I have risked my own to find information to aid us in battle against the Saxons; He fell in love with my sister, your queen, and you would do well to remember all this I have said, for I will not repeat it. If you wish to disrespect not only myself and my family, but Arthur as well, then please, by all means, continue with this slander," I paused to take a calming breath, my eyes fixed her with a hard glare, "but do not think for a moment that I will stand idly by and allow you to say such things in my presence." Arthur placed a hand on my shoulder and I grasped it with one of my own. Guinevere appeared at my other side, arm laced through mine, and amplified my stony gaze with her own.

"Do not speak ill of my people, lady. I am your queen, deserving of your respect. I am also your family, deserving of kind words, not these bitter insults you spout." She hissed through her teeth, a bad habit that came in handy when she wanted to look fierce and angry, like a caged animal. I stepped back and was enfolded by the knights, Tristan at my left and Lancelot at my right; Gawain and Galahad stood on either side of them, and Dagonet and Bors, tall as they are, stood behind me.

"Calidia, it would be wise, while you are here, to keep slanderous comments about _my people_ to yourself." He nodded, gentle scolding over with, he turned to us and dismissed us. "Andraste, before you go, I would very much appreciate your presence tonight at the table as we are celebrating the safe arrival of my cousin." The look he shot me told me that, although it was my choice, and he'd understand if I denied, he wanted me there so that she could see she was wrong and to show her that we are not all what stories claim us to be.

"Of course, brother, I will attend." I smiled, nodding my head.

"Thank you, sister." He beamed, hugging me briefly before sending me off with Guin to prepare. Her arm still linked through mine, we walked in silence to her chambers where her maidservants awaited us.

"Here you are, my ladies, we've pulled a steaming bath for you both and laced them each with pine and lavender." One spoke softly, face partially hidden by her hair. We nodded in thanks and disrobed. I stepped into my second bath of the day, but this was more relaxing than the first. It seemed as if the scented, steamy waters were whisking away all my aggravations. My sister and I let out simultaneous sighs as the women washed our hair and scrubbed us clean. Long ago they stopped trying to remove my tattoos and now admired them as they went about their duties. The ones on my face began with an upside down crescent moon; leading away from it were the swirls and knots of our culture, framing my face and continuing over my cheek bones, stopping beneath my eyes, forming a sort of mask. The rest of my body was covered in ribbon-like adornments, the lines flowing fluidly as a river, and on my back, a rose whose stems ended at the small of my back to create a knot.

"Andy, why _did_ you get those permanently etched into your skin?" Guin asked, her head lolling to the side as her servant massaged oils into her shoulders and back.

"I wanted to always be connected to my people, no matter where I go or whom I marry, should I marry." I replied with a smirk.

"You will marry, Andraste, and I have a feeling I know who he is." She winked and giggled, attempting to make a stoic face. I laughed and threw a soap bar at her.

"Do not jest, sister! Tristan will not marry, and least of all not me." I smiled softly, a form of sorrow seeping into my bones. "No, he will never marry a woman like me. I am Woad, part of a people he has hated and killed and who have killed his brothers in arms for years. I would not expect him to marry a Woad woman, nor would I ask it of him."

"Sister, dear, you will marry, and I do not think you give him the credit he deserves. He will marry, I know the woman he wishes to marry. She's beautiful, kind, compassionate, and strong willed. Perfect for him, I think." She smiled mischievously, glancing my way before bursting into giggles.

"I care not of what she's like nor for who she is, but whoever she may be, she is lucky to have him wanting her." I replied coldly, dunking my head underwater to wash the soap and oils out before stepping out of my bath and being wrapped in towels and blankets to dry.

"My lady, your dress is on the bed, do you need help?"

"No, but thank you, Evana." I smiled, stepping over to the appointed bed and slid on the silk chemise, lacing up the bodice in the back to a comfortable tightness. Afterwards, I slipped the emerald velvet dress over my head, allowing it to glide along my skin with gentle caresses. Tying the gold and silver sash around my waist, I slipped the gilt bracelets onto my wrists and the torque around my neck. Guinevere smiled softly as she put on her own gilt accessories. She came over to me and placed something on my head, sliding it beneath my crimson locks.

"Father would want you to wear this, as you were meant to." I looked in the mirror to the side of me and saw the gold tiara with small emeralds encrusted into the four main points, signifying the four elements, in a knot carved into the metal.

"Thank you, sister." I smiled softly, eyes glistening.

"You're welcome, now, let us go enjoy the festivities." She beamed, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of our room, down the halls and to the room of the round table.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Festivities and Drama**

* * *

We arrived at the party to find things in full swing. The musicians were lined up against the side of the hall, a group of dancers traveling about in haphazard, but elegant, patterns with their respective partners before trading off with a neighbor at random. A smile split my face as I found my knights and we walked, gracefully and slowly, much to my dismay, to them.

"Ah, Andraste, poets could never sing properly of your beauty!" Galahad chuckled, his cheeks tinged pink with the effects of ale. The others, well into their own mugs, guffawed and agreed in shouts. Arthur watched calmly, amusement glinting in his hazel eyes as he beckoned us to his side. I moved to sit at his right while Guin sat elegantly at his left, a moment of misty-eyed, loving looks shared between them before the tavern was called to quiet and Arthur gave a moving speech about family, duty, and honor.

"That was lovely, cousin." Calidia smiled, easily ignoring me from her spot next to me.

"I agree, brother," I grinned, placing my hand on his arm, "Wiser words will never be spoken, but if you'll excuse me, I would like to join my fellow knights, if it please you."

"Of course," Arthur chuckled, "I'm sure Tristan misses you." A blush stained my face and I glared at him.

"You know, I did not tease you when you and my sister first had eyes for each other, it would be greatly appreciated if you would return the favor. I get enough of it from Lancelot anyway." He laughed again and kissed my cheek, waving me off to join the knights; which I did so with much grace and elegance, all that was expected of the queens' sister.

"Get tired of dealing with the Roman lady or was it Arthur's boring talks about duty?" Lancelot grinned, winking playfully at Arthur and myself.

"Neither, knight," I smirked, seating myself between Dagonet and Tristan, "I merely missed my favorite knights,"

"You mean knight, as I'm your only favorite," he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. The others booed him with smiles on their faces.

"I'm sorry to disappoint," a cheshire grin forming, "but my favorite knights are everyone but you, especially Dagonet and Tristan."

"Why is that, little one?" Dagonet chuckled, that fatherly smile on his face.

"Dagonet, I'm shocked you don't know! You nursed me back to health on numerous occasions, if you remember, and never once have you ever made any sort of lewd comment about my person." I grinned, "That, and you're practically family to me." The table was filled with friendly teasing coos before they went back to their ale and stories of war.

"Andraste, I've been meaning to ask you," Galahad began, fumbling for words only slightly due to the ale, "why are you wearing that tiara?" That garnered their attention, all turning to stare at the aforementioned jewelry, except, of course, for Tristan.

"My father gave it to me years ago to wear when I was married, it was our mothers, but Guinevere hadn't wanted it, she'd said something about it suiting me better," I waved my hand in dismissal, "but, since I'll not be married, I decided it would be saved and worn for special occasions. My sister has kindly kept it hidden here for me and brought it out for me to wear tonight."

"What do you mean you'll never marry?" Gawain asked incredulously, "Of course you'll be married! Long before any of us to be sure!" They all roared in laughter and I smiled politely, but shook my head.

"I am Woad, Gawain, and the wars our people have had will haunt my steps for the rest of my natural life." My smile faded and turned sad, "No man would want a woman like me for a bride, and I would never ask it of anyone to demean themselves in such a way." Politely excusing myself from the table, I discretely left the celebration and made my way to the wall.

The night was cool and clear, allowing me the luxury of gazing up at the stars above, wishing I could shine as brightly as they did. I hopped up onto the rampart and sighed, ignoring that niggling voice in the back of my mind telling me I should be afraid of the fall below me. I should've been, any rational person would be, but I couldn't find it in myself to be scared of death. I'd faced him numerous times and walked away at least relatively unscathed. How could I fear something I'd escaped for years? Something I'd helped others to avoid for that same length of time? No, I didn't fear the fall, nor did I fear the death that would follow should it happen. There were little things that I feared in life, but living alone, that thought shook me to the core.

"You could fall." A voice spoke from behind me, causing me to gasp and shift slightly closer to the edge in instinct. Instantaneously, rough hands dashed out to grasp my waist, pulling me off the wall and into warm, strong arms. It wasn't until the initial shock wore off –as I'd been in my own world for a bit—that I realized it was Tristan who had come to me.

"Why is it that whenever I'm alone, you seem to appear?" I whispered, a trembling smile on my face as I leaned my head against his chest. His arms stayed locked in their place around me.  
"I haven't the slightest idea," he murmured, "but it does happen often, doesn't it? Do you mind?"

"No," slipped past my lips before I'd thought about it, and I realized how true that was. I never minded that he was always with me. It never once bothered me that, even when I was convinced I wanted to be alone, his company, no matter how silent, was always welcomed. I hadn't noticed how often that had been the case when we were younger, or even how it had continued as we grew older. "Shouldn't you be back at the party?"

"Shouldn't you?" he countered, glancing down at my upturned face, eyebrow quirked in a challenging manner. I could only smirk and return to my previous position.

"I'm not welcomed there tonight, my dearest," I could feel the impending tears sting my closed eyes, the memories of childhood flooding back, "I'm not unaccustomed to that feeling either." I could feel the low growl rumble through his chest before it passed his lips in a feral sound, his arms instinctively tightening around me as his head bent to rest on mine.

"You are always welcomed here, Andraste." He whispered, lips pressed into my hair, hot breath trailing down my neck from my head, "Never will you think otherwise from this moment forward, do you understand me? Anyone who makes you feel so will have to answer to me,"

"Yes," I sniffled, a real smile splitting my face, "I promise." I don't remember how long we stayed that way on the wall, nor do I really care to remember for that would bring the reality that it didn't last as long as the eternity I felt it was. I also don't remember falling asleep, however, I do vaguely remember Tristan carrying me to his room and tucking me into bed before moving to the cot right next to it to sleep. I remember this because I woke up enough to murmur, "I love you," I didn't think he'd heard me, I was pretty sure he didn't, but with Tristan you can never be entirely positive about anything. He has the ears of a bat.

* * *

**Authors Note:**

** I know, you probably want to murder me right now, or at least strangle me for taking so damn long to update. I won't bore you with the problems that have come up (not including the major writers block I've been having for everything and it's mother) to inhibit my writing, but I will be updating as much as possible from here on out. I don't promise to have one up every week or even every few weeks, but I do promise one (or at least a short one) every month. I realize that's absolutely terrible to promise, but it's all I can give to you, my faithful readers, with everything that's happening right now. I love you all and I thank those of you who have kept sending me messages begging me to keep writing, you honestly don't know how much that means to me! **


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